A dark and dreary, cold and rainy night in Rome. All is quiet. The streets are relatively clear of both pedestrians and motor vehicles. A good time to enjoy a warm fire and a wonderful dish of pasta.

Italy is where I come to relax and do a little writing. This trip I’ve made great progress on a little book I’m writing tentatively titled Friends, Mentors and Spiritual Fathers. The book reflects on several men, now deceased, who greatly influenced me when I was young. I don’t do their stories justice. I’m not a biographer or historian. But I hope I can pay sincere tribute to these gifted men and the many treasures they shared with me over the years.

A rainy night in Rome is the perfect time to remember and give thanks for friends, mentors and spiritual parents—not just the ones I’m writing about but all the women and men who shared so much with me over the years.